Letters, Emails and Text...

I was watching "You've Got Mail" for probably the millionth time last night. I thought about email and how it's amazing that with that and online billpay and ecards and Facebook and the like, it's amazing the United States Postal Service hasn't been put out of business yet. The price of postage doesn't help.

When I was young, I used to write letters all the time. Of course, this was before the Internet and email existed, so that and the telephone were the preferred methods of long-distance communication. And considering my dad wasn't really big on long distance phone bills, it was probably the only method of long-distance communication for me. I wrote to my summer camp friends. I wrote to the kids I knew from other schools through playing ball and cheerleading. I even wrote to my school friends during the summer when we were separated from each other. Now, it's all I can do to write a grocery list and I haven't sent out real (not virtual) Christmas cards in years.

I guess it's the way it goes with the advancement of technology. Text is starting to replace phone calls...which, of course, we can do from pretty much anywhere thanks to mobile phones. Even email and instant messaging have started taking a backseat to Facebook and MySpace communication. The technology train sometimes moves so fast it makes me a little nauseated.

My thoughts on this started veering toward my parents. They are celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary on Saturday. I'll write more about that later, for that is a blog that deserves it's own turn in the spotlight. The reason why it's relevant here is that my parents started out knowing each other through letters. When my mom was 15 and my dad was 18 and in the Navy with my uncle, they became pen pals. It wasn't anything serious at first, but grew into something and by the time they met each other three years later, the rest was history. Imagine three years of letter-writing and feeling like you know somebody inside and out and then finally being able to lay your eyes on that person. It's quite romantic, actually.

I guess my point is that I think letters reveal something in you that emails, texts, Facebook messages and even phone calls can't. Because we're putting forth an effort, I think the things we put in a letter are somehow more real, never flippant, always well thought-out. We can type something in an email and hit the send button before we've really thought about what we've just typed. But a letter takes time. There's just something about writing it out, putting it into an envelope, and mailing it that is simple, yet complex, all at the same time. And the thought of it compels me to slow down, to really think about the things I say to other people, to make my communication more personal and make every word count. I think we all feel that way. After all, isn't it funny how even with the ability to communicate with each other more quickly, efficiently and often than ever before, we still love getting mail? (You know, except bills.)

I've been thinking recently about writing a letter to somebody special and writing this blog has encouraged me to not just think about it, but do it. And next year, I'm sending Christmas cards.

Quite the Same

Quite the Same
by Edie Rowland
from I'll Be Home for Christmas, published in 2005 by Xulon Press

“And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed…” (Luke 2:1). It’s the story everyone knows, and every year, when my mother’s rather large family gets together at Christmastime, one of the children will read it aloud.

These family get-togethers have changed a lot over the years. We once had them on Christmas Eve, but then as individual families grew, we moved the occasion to December 23rd. It used to be when I was young that the grandchildren read the story. Now, the grandchildren have children who read the story. My grandfather isn’t here to celebrate with us anymore, and my grandparents’ house with the big barn out back is no longer the setting for our parties, having been sold years ago. When I was small, everybody bought gifts for everyone, but as the family grew and finances shrunk, we evolved to our current practice – buy presents for the little ones, and the adults each bring a gift to play an always-entertaining gift-giving game.

People have come and gone over the years – due to dating and breakups, marriage and divorce, births and deaths. But one thing has remained the same. Every year, the Bible is opened to Luke chapter 2. And at some point in the evening, in a Linus-esque moment, everyone grows silent in reverence and awe as the gifts are ignored, the food left to get cold, and a child’s stammering voice takes us back to the manger where it all started. Traditions, circumstances, and even people change; however, the reason for our gathering and our celebration remains the same: the Christ child born to set us free.

Final San Diego Blog

I promised a wrap-up to my San Diego trip, so I'll provide that for you and also tell you about the day that followed and the challenges it brought.

Overall, I was excited about how the trip went. There was so much bonding among choir members who barely knew each other before and I think it's going to bring us closer as a group. We saw so many amazing things happen among the people in San Diego as well. I told you all about the server at lunch on Saturday and she came to the concert on Sunday night with who I'm assuming is her friend who is having a hard time and her two children. They had to slip out early, so I didn't get a chance to talk to her, unfortunately. I'm hoping she filled out a contact card for the church. On Sunday morning, the husband of one of our choir members who came on the trip with her led one of the workers at our hotel to the Lord. I told others on our van that all the planning, preparation and traveling was worth it just for that.

I believe we were able, with our canvassing, to bring in people who hadn't heard of the church and are great prospects for them. We even had people who lived near the school where the concerts were held listening on their porches and some even came down to see what it was all about. I was so impressed by what God is doing through Brad and his staff in San Diego. I hope to visit again and be able to stay longer.

I came back to work on Tuesday morning on one of those "mission trip highs" and reality hit me in the face when I found out that there were more cutbacks and layoffs. It makes me a little uncertain for the future, but I refuse to let Satan take away the positive experience of my weekend and replace it with fear and lack of faith. He doesn't like it when we are pumped up about spiritual things and wants to use whatever disappointing circumstances he can to discourage and dishearten us.

I've been reading David's Psalms lately and have been reminded of some wonderful truths about the faithfulness of our God, even in times of trouble. This verse particularly jumped out at me recently: "The LORD is my light and my salvation — whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life — of whom shall I be afraid?" (Psalm 27:1) If the Lord is truly my stronghold, I have nothing to fear. He is constant in a world of chaos, unchanging in times of uncertainty, steadfast in shaky circumstances. In good times and bad, He is our stronghold.

Church and Free Time

Our last full day was an awesome one, even though the weather cooled off quite a bit. We actually had to wear jackets yesterday! We had worship with Cross Church San Diego at the school where they meet and where our concerts have been. They normally meet indoors, but we had it outdoors on the stage put up for the concerts. Brad, the pastor, preached, of course, and it was an awesome sermon about four who had front-row seats to the birth of Jesus - the angels, the shepherds, Herod, and the innkeeper - and their very different responses.

The church fed us for lunch from El Pollo Loco. (For those of you whose Spanish isn't as advanced as mine - yeah, right! - that means "The Crazy Chicken.") They've been so gracious and hospitable - I'm gonna miss them! We had some free time after lunch, so our van went to Old Town San Diego, which has shopping, and then to Mission Beach to see the Pacific Ocean. It was a great day, we all got the chance to buy some souvenirs, and I got separated from the group about three times. It wasn't as scary as it probably sounds.

Last night was so incredible I can't describe it with words. The seats were almost full, by the end most people were on their feet, and I was so pumped I wanted to come back and do the concert again. I'll write more about the overall experience of this trip in a separate blog, but, in a nutshell, God has moved both in and around me. I'm ready to see my family, friends and pets, but part of me is sad to be leaving and wants to stay.

Thank you all for your prayers and please keep them up as we travel home today. Plane is scheduled to land in Charlotte at 8:30 tonight.

Great Second Day!

Yesterday was an amazing day, for a lot of reasons. We went out yesterday morning and hung flyers for the concerts on doors. It was a great experience, not to mention good cardio. My calves are so sore this morning! We went until we had no flyers left, and all total with Friday night and yesterday, gave out 4000 flyers.

At lunch yesterday, our van group had an awesome experience at TGI Fridays. We had the opportunity to pray for a request from our server for a family she knows that is in need, and were even able to help out the situation. We also invited her to come to our concert tonight and bring the family she asked us to pray for. We're hoping they will be able to come. God used one of our team members to be an incredible influence for Him and it was a great example of what the Lord can do when someone is sensitive to the Holy Spirit.

The weather was beautiful all day yesterday. I don't want to make anybody jealous, but I heard it was cold back home while I was getting sunburned here. We did our sound check on stage with sunglasses on. And there was something ironic about our van group spontaneously singing "Let It Snow" and "White Christmas" in San Diego with the temperature somewhere in the 70's.

The concert last night was amazing. The crowd wasn't huge, but a pretty good one. Everyone seemed to be really into the music - there were a lot of children. There was just something exciting in the atmosphere, and I was so pumped after we left. Truth be known, I didn't feel too confident about my solo, but so many people came up and encouraged me afterward. I love being a part of God's family.

Today we are going to church at Cross Church San Diego and the church is feeding us lunch, which I think is so nice. We have some free time this afternoon, so everyone is looking forward to seeing more of San Diego. Tonight is our second and final concert. I'm excited about it, but a little sad because it means we are going home tomorrow. Bittersweet, to say the least.

Keep us and weather in your prayers. There is possible rain in the forecast, but we know the One Who controls the weather, right?

Good trip and first day

Hey, everybody! We had a very good trip out even though our flight was about an hour late taking off. We still made it within about 15 or 20 minutes of the planned arrival time. We had a constituency waiting for us when we got off with a big welcome sign. It was great!

I just love my three roommates! And the people I'm in the rental van with as well. We are having such a great time together - laughing, joking, getting lost. Somehow last night we were were trying to get to a neighborhood and ended up at the Taiwanese Lutheran Church. Don't ask.

We met Brad, the pastor here, and a few of his staff members. I'm so excited about helping them. They said they are running about 100 people in their church services, which is amazing considering the short time they've been here. God is doing awesome things here and I'm blessed to be a part of it.

We spent time last night putting flyers about our concerts on doors and caroling for people waiting outside restaurants as Steve, the associate pastor, gave out flyers. People seemed to enjoy it and we even got some applause!

The people here are so friendly! Seriously, their hospitality would rival South Carolinians'. And, in spite of the fact that there is a lot of traffic, the drivers are actually more courteous here. So many of them stopped for our large group to cross streets, even though legally, they didn't have to.

Today, we will be giving out more flyers and getting ready for our first performance tonight. The weather here is beautiful, and I got to eat an In and Out burger last night for the first time in seven years. They are great and if you ever come out to California, you have to have one. The next thing I'm supposed to try is a fish taco, which, from what I hear is a San Diego staple.

Hopefully, now that Barry has generously helped me to figure out how to get on the Internet at the hotel, I can update tonight when we get back. Have a great Saturday, everyone! Miss you all!

Here We Go!!

Today is the day! We are on our way! (I didn't mean for that to rhyme.)

I got out of bed this morning at about 4:30. I'm not really a morning person and have a hard time leaving my house when it's still dark. Something about it doesn't seem right. To me, 5:00 only happens once a day and it's not in the morning. I did discover, however, that there is literally no traffic on the streets of Inman at that time of the morning. Just thought you'd all be interested to know that.

I had to leave Smoltzie at my parents' house and it was so hard. This is the longest I've left him since right after I got him. He looked out the window at me with his sad little face as I pulled away and I wanted to cry. If I keep talking about it, I'm gonna cry now.

So... it's about 8:50am and we're now sitting in Concourse B at the Charlotte-Douglas International Airport. Airport security is so much fun. While holding both my boarding pass and my ID, I had to take off my shoes (of course I wore sneakers, not slip-on shoes), have my quart-sized bag of liquids out, and get out my laptop to put through the scanner. Thankfully, I got through without anything beeping.

I also found out that they (at least US Air) now charge $15 to check a bag. What?? Aren't the prices of tickets enough to cover that? And if somebody carries on a bag instead of checking it, isn't it going to be the same amount of weight on the plane? I started to carry on both my bags instead of checking one, until I realized that my suitcase had liquids that they wouldn't allow me to carry on - you know, really dangerous stuff like full-sized bottles of lotion and face wash. And no more free meals on long flights either. There was a menu passed around on the bus coming up here that had the prices for meals. Seven bucks for fruit and cheese? Glad I brought snacks with me.

I can't tell you how excited I am right now! We have our big group of travelers - like a great big family. I'm anticipating what God is going to do and can't wait to share it with you.

By the way, my fellow travelers say "Hello!" Thanks for your prayers! I'll blog again soon!

California, Here I Come!

First of all, I want to apologize for not updating my blog for a week and a half. It's been pretty crazy... but that's no excuse! I promise I'm going to make up for it this weekend, though.

As most of you know, I'm going to San Diego with my church choir this weekend. We leave tomorrow and will be gone until Monday. I thought that instead of keeping a journal, I would use my blog as a platform to tell you all about the trip and share what God does there. Fortunately, the hotel where we are staying has free wireless internet in the rooms, so I'm packing up my laptop and sharing the journey with you!

So stay tuned... I'll let you know when I update!

Keep us in your prayers!

Being Grateful

Sometimes I am a selfish, spoiled brat.

I hope that the people who know me would disagree with that statement, but too often, it's true. Not necessarily when dealing with other people, but when it comes to my relationship with God, I can act like quite the pampered princess.

I've been thinking about it a lot with Thanksgiving coming up in a couple of days. I can be such an ingrate. There are times when I'd rather waste my breath complaining about everything that's not perfect than realizing the many wonderful things there are in my life. Certainly, I'm not the worst child on the planet, but God deserves so much better than what I too often give Him.

Because of that, I just wanted to take the time, instead of whining, to be thankful.

So, thank You, Lord, for the wonderful family you've given me.

Thank You for my true and loyal friends.

Thank You for the people who are still in my life and the memories I've made with those who aren't anymore.

Thank You for the little moments every day that remind me of what a good life I have and what an awesome God You are.

Thank You for the sound of children's laughter, the smell of honeysuckles in the spring, the beauty of a rainbow.

Thank You for good health and a sound mind and body.

Thank You for freedom and those who sacrificed to give and preserve it.

Thank You for Jesus, the cross, the empty tomb.

Thank You for Who You are, and the fact that You are the same yesterday, today and forever...regardless of what I may be going through.

Thank You that You never let me down, You always keep Your promises, and You love me no matter what.

And I love You, too.

"Making the most of every opportunity..."

As many of you probably know, I was sick last week. I managed to miss only one day of work, but getting up in the morning is still hard. (My energy level has yet to be up to par.) One of the side effects of being sick is that my voice sounded funny and I had a hard time singing. I barely got through Sunday services last weekend without my voice completely cracking and then at choir rehearsal Thursday, I kept losing it periodically. In between, it was frustrating not being able to sing to the radio as much as I would like. The people in other cars who look at me funny are probably thankful for that. By yesterday, I was doing pretty well, though.

Anyway, I knew eventually my voice would be back to normal. But one night I started thinking about what I would do if it didn't. It wasn't that I looked at the worst-case scenario, but people do lose their voices for long periods of time. I've seen it in people I know. I've been singing in church since I was three years old - before I can even remember. What would I do if I ever got to the point that I couldn't do it anymore?

It's a thought that scares me. But at the same time, I think it's good for us to look at our abilities and opportunities in this way. I think we would all appreciate them more. As I began to think about that possibility, my mind turned to others. What if I could no longer type or write? What if I couldn't express myself with words anymore?

Better yet, what if never again got the opportunity to talk to someone about Jesus? What if that person in my life that I need to show kindness to was suddenly not there and I didn't get another chance? In my past, I've come across people that needed Christ, but because I wasn't where I needed to be with Him, I couldn't be a witness to them. I've literally found myself in tears over people that I once knew who I may never see again and who I may not see in Heaven because I didn't take the opportunity to show them how to get there.

It's a sobering thought, huh? Our singles ministry theme verse is Ephesians 5:15-16 - "Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil." This is important for us all to remember as we live out our days here. We don't know how much time we have left, or how many chances we will have to do something for God. I know I've passed on a lot of opportunities that I may never get again.

So we should tell the people in our lives that we love them. We should use the talents and abilities God has given us while we have them. We should share the love of Jesus every time He gives us the chance. Making the most of every opportunity.

The Perfect Candidate

I cast my vote for the perfect candidate.

He is for truth and justice. He knows that things may not always seem fair, but that in the end, they work together for good. He always provides for those in his charge. He listens to his constituents. He always does what's best for them. He is kind and meek, but also strong and always in control.

He understands the difficult times that we go through because he has been through even more difficult times and emerged victorious. He cares so much about us that he put his life on the line many years ago to give us freedom.

He reaches out to children, the elderly, women, the disabled. He's even spent time with people who had communicable diseases. He loves everyone of every race the same. He is sympathetic to the suffering and merciful to even those who do him wrong. He is the perfect role model for us and our children.

I'm telling you, you can't go wrong with this candidate. There is no fault in him and nobody can accomplish what he can. He has the record to prove it. He has a long history of providing hope to the downtrodden, wholeness to the broken, nourishment to the hungry, peace to those in turmoil. At one time, he even saved the world. He's delivered on every promise he's ever made. Has any other candidate ever done that?

Have you cast your vote for him yet? I did years ago. He's never let me down. I've never been disappointed. Because my vote was cast for the perfect candidate.

Read more about him here.

Old Acquaintances

Last Thursday night, we had the annual Festival at church and I took Smoltzie and went down to hang out, eat a little something, and see friends. The best part of the night was that I ran into my college friend, Judy. Judy and I sat beside each other in our first college class at USCS and were friends from that day on. We were both Elementary Education majors and had most of our classes together. We went to lunch together most days, including every Friday at the buffet at Quincy's, where we had the same waitress every week. (Now USCS is USC Upstate and Quincy's is The Junction. Time certainly changes everything.)

After we graduated, Judy and I were in each other's weddings. (Hers took, mine didn't.) I'm so terrible at keeping in touch with old friends. I literally had not seen Judy since her wedding a few months after college graduation. It was so great to see her again, and I got her phone number. I promised myself I'm going to get better at keeping in touch with people, so I'm hoping we can go to lunch together or something one day and catch up.

A lot has happened in my life since the last time I saw her. I've been through a divorce, gotten a second college degree, hopped to different jobs until I started working at the TV station six years ago. I've lived in five different cities in two states. I asked her if she was still teaching and she's at the same school she started working in when we graduated and is still living in the same town. She's still married and has three children now. I guess I see in her what I thought my life would be like right now. Sometimes when I do touch base with people I went to college or high school with who have the marriage, family and sometimes career, too, I take a moment for self-reflection and, too often, see my own deficiencies.

In a fit of self-pity one day, I once told someone that if I die, I leave nothing behind. There's no legacy of children or some great earth-changing work that I've done. I think the hardest thing for me when I turned 30 awhile back was just knowing that there was so much I wanted to accomplish by then that I hadn't.

Don't worry. My blog isn't all gloom and despair. Because I know there's a reason for everything that has happened in my life and for the place that God has brought me to at this point in time. If I'd had the life I thought I would, I probably wouldn't be as thankful for His blessings. I know I'm a lot stronger and wiser now than I was as a fresh-faced recent college graduate. Perhaps a little more cynical, too, but still a dreamer. And I know God has great things for me to do. There's a pretty good chance that the marriage, the children and the stability is still out there for me to find. And because of what I've been through to get it, I'll be much more grateful for it, I'll be better able to handle the rigors and trials that go along with it, and I'll know that it all happened in God's perfect timing.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time..." (Ecclesiastes 3:11a)

Charm is Deceptive...

As I told you all in my last blog, I'm taking an online class. There are, of course, several other current and former teachers taking the same class. I don't think I'm all that popular in my class. See, we have a discussion board where not only is it recommended, but required that we participate. A large chunk of our grade is based on the information we post on the board and the "thoughtful" responses we give to other people who post. I don't get a lot of responses to my posts. It's not a huge deal, but usually just the teacher responds. I try to make myself feel better by saying that maybe my deep inflections are just over their heads, but more likely, they are under their feet. I mean, these women know something about education and teaching!

Anyway, I remember when I was pretty popular. I don't want to sound like I'm bragging, because a lot of it was because I was so involved in school growing up. If there was an activity, I wanted to be involved. I was in chorus and drama, played basketball and volleyball, was a cheerleader, was on yearbook staff. My junior year I was president of my class and was voted homecoming queen my senior year. I went to a small school, so it was easy to know everybody, and I tried to be friends with everyone. I befriended the popular kids and the not-so-popular kids, the jocks and the nerds. I guess I would have made a good politician.

Back then, I probably thought that popularity really mattered. I see the kinds of things that happen among young people today - like bullying and peer pressure - and I want to scream to those kids that it doesn't matter how popular you are. Ten years from now, nobody will care if you were given a superlative in the yearbook or you won prom queen. What matters is keeping your standards and morals in the face of pressure and treating people the way you want to be treated. What matters is being a positive example, studying hard, and serving others. If all you care about is being popular, being liked, or putting others down to make yourself feel better, all you'll have when you get older are regrets and burned bridges. If you do the right thing, regardless of what anybody else thinks, you'll never have to live with those regrets.

I think that's a good lesson for us adults, too. Did all the popularity, athleticism, and priming for position in school really do us any good in the long run? Not really. So why does position or popularity matter now? Why are we so hesitant to stand up for what's right now? Young people haven't learned these things yet, but we have. So what's our excuse?

For the record, it's okay that I'm not the most popular person in my class. That's not my reason for being in it. But I don't want to compromise what I know to be true in any setting just for acceptance. I don't ever want fear of rejection or unpopularity to stop me from doing what's right, standing for what I believe in, and telling everyone I know about a Savior Who loves us...and Who also never cared about being popular.

"Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." - Proverbs 31:30

A New Challenge

I realized last night when I was lamenting the work involved in an online class I'm taking that I hadn't talked about my new endeavor on my blog. As you may or may not know, I used to be a teacher. My first teaching job out of college was in middle school and was a harrowing experience. (I'm exaggerating only slightly.) I came in a few weeks into the school year and taught classes that were formed from pulling students from other classes. Thus, I ended up teaching five different classes on all three grade levels in four different subject areas. I didn't have my own classroom and had to "float" all day. And I shared a hole-in-the-wall office with two other teachers. Needless to say, it wasn't a very positive experience for a first-year teacher, age 22, who looked more like one of the students than like any of the teachers.

To make matters worse, because the school allowed the students to choose to pull out of their other classes to be in mine, I ended up with quite a few who were only in there because they got in trouble with their other teachers. Consequently, I had severe behavior problems, which included my being threatened bodily harm and confiscating an illegal substance in the classroom - you can guess what it was. And that was just in sixth grade.

After all that, I decided to go back to school to obtain my communications degree and go into journalism. I took a part-time job in an alternative school, which oddly enough was easier than the middle school (in spite of the fact that I had to break up a couple of fights), and went back to school full-time for a year to get my second degree.

After jumping around to a few different jobs, I ended up working in television a little over six years ago. It's been a good, steady job with growth potential, but as with a lot of industries these days, there have been layoffs and budget cuts and I've been thinking about how I could protect myself against unemployment. I've thought about getting a real estate license or a paralegal certificate, or trying to start a part-time home-based business. Then my Sunday School class, for the second year in a row, did a school project at Arcadia Elementary School. I listened as the principal told about all the outreach projects the school is involved in to help students and their families. I thought to myself how great it would be to be a part of something like that.

Then the light bulb went off...

The answer to my dilemma was right there in front of me. Now, I will admit that at one time, I said I would work at McDonald's before I would go back to teaching. (Not that there's anything wrong with working at McDonald's, mind you.) But the experience wakened something inside me and made me realize that if I was looking for something rewarding - and to fortify myself vocationally at the same time - the answer was staring me in the face. I know that I've matured enough to appreciate the opportunity to impact children's lives and had enough life experience to deal better with the adversity that sometimes comes with such a great responsibility.

So now I'm taking classes to renew my teaching certificate, which has been expired for more than six years. It's a challenge because I haven't taken a class in a very long time (unless you count the cake decorating class at Michael's...which I don't), I've never taken an online class, and it's been a very long time since I put together a lesson plan. I'm not sure where this will take me, but it's what I believe is in God's will for me to do and we'll just see what He does with it. By the way, any advice from current or former teachers is welcome. And prayers are definitely appreciated. It's going to be an adventure. But adventures are fun, right?

Disappointment

Just because things don't turn out the way you hoped they would, doesn't mean they can't still be wonderful.

For some reason, those words have been echoing in my head today. I don't know if I heard them in a movie or read them somewhere, but they are true. They are an excellent reminder that sometimes the plans God has for us are better than our own.

I've been reading this week from I Samuel as I prepare to teach Sunday School this Sunday. I Samuel 16 tells about how Samuel reacted after King Saul was disobedient and God rejected him as king. Samuel was devastated. In fact, he never went to see Saul again after that incident. But God asked him how long he was going to mourn for Saul. He told him to get up and go find the next king God had picked out.

I know that feeling. I know how it is when you thought everything was as it should be. When you thought your life was all planned out and you would live happily ever after. Don't you think Samuel felt that way? Israel wanted a king and he found one. After a lot of coaxing, Samuel convinced him to take his throne. Everything's hunky dorey, right? But now Samuel was back to the drawing board, back at square one. He just holed himself up in his house and mourned.

Have you felt that way before? Do you feel that way now? Where you just wanted to shut yourself off from the world and wallow in self-pity because things didn't turn out the way you thought or hoped they would? I know I have.

I'm reminded of God's words to His people when they were in exile in Babylon. (Talk about things not turning out the way you hoped!) He told them to carry on with their lives, to make the best of the situation they were in because better days were ahead. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)

In other words, just because things don't turn out the way you hoped, doesn't mean they can't still be wonderful.

(I want to thank the folks at www.SparkleCityBlogs.com and www.SpartanburgSpark.com for covering my blog on their websites!)

Providence

At one time, my screen saver said "The Lord Provides." I put that on during a particularly trying time financially. Apparently, He must have provided one more time because I haven't gone without a meal and I still have shelter and electricity. It's in times like that I've learned this: Providence ain't just the capital of Rhode Island.

I just signed up to do "Christmas on Mission," a project that my church choir has taken on in which we do a day trip to Bluffton, SC (where we partner with church planters) to perform two back-to-back concerts for the community; then, we fly to San Diego (where we also partner with church planters) for a long weekend to canvas neighborhoods, including caroling for residents, and perform two community concerts in a local park; lastly, we finish up with a local concert in Spartanburg for our church and the community here. It's an agressive schedule, but I'm excited about being a part of it, and anticipating what God will do.

I paid my deposit last week, knowing that God wants me to go and that He will provide the rest of the cost. I know this because He has proven it time and time again. He truly does provide. And He never asks us to do anything for Him that He doesn't make a way for it to happen.

I learned this on my first mission trip with my church. I decided three weeks before the fact to take a trip to Methuen, Massachusetts to help a couple who were planting a church there. I felt God wanted me to go, just because of the way it even came up for me to be asked to go, but I needed a little reassurance. I asked God to tell me for sure. I didn't have the deposit money, but if He'd provide it, I would know for sure that He wanted me there. I went to Bible Study the next night after praying that prayer, and in the process of asking everyone to pray for the situation, someone I'd never even met before that night handed me a check out of the blue. It was for the exact amount of my deposit. Within eight days of committing to go, God provided every penny I needed and then some. I finished the trip with $200 to spare, which I later had the opportunity to give to someone else who had committed to go on a trip and didn't have the money.

I'm thinking of another time that God provided. It was during a time that I wasn't committed to Him as I should be. I was doing my own thing and not living the way I knew I should. I was living in Raleigh, NC at the time. It was around Christmastime and I was running out of money. I needed groceries with no money to buy them and still pay my other bills. I was there alone with really no friends. I decided that I would use the plastic and just go get them. I couldn't starve, after all.

My apartment complex was having a Christmas party that evening, but I was so down, I didn't even want to go. Before I left to go the grocery store, I looked across the grassy area between my back door and the clubhouse and saw them preparing for the party. At that point, I decided to go, for the free food if nothing else. They gave away door prizes. I thought about how that $20 Target gift card or basket of goodies would cheer me up for a little while at least. But one by one, they drew names and mine wasn't one of them. It came down to the last, biggest and best prize of all and they drew the name. I held my breath. I don't remember the name they called, but it wasn't mine. I released said breath and maybe even let out a sigh. But wait... "You must be present to win" and the person whose name they drew had cut out early. They drew again. I was so excited to hear my name, I didn't even mind that she called me "Eddie." The prize? A $50 gift card to Food Lion.

See, God is faithful to us even when we aren't always faithful to Him. Aren't you glad? If His faithfulness was equivalent to mine, I'd hate to see where I would be right now.

Maybe you're in a trying time and aren't quite sure how you're going to get through it. Maybe it's a financial crisis. Maybe it's a relationship issue. Maybe it's a decision you don't quite know how to make. Regardless, the Lord is always faithful. He knows just what you need when you need it. The Lord provides.

Graceful Toughness

I've been trying for about two weeks to blog about my grandma. I just can't ever seem to find words adequate enough to tell you about her.

I've always admired my grandmother. Her godliness, her character, her kindness and grace. But in recent years, I've seen a side of her I hadn't before. My grandma is tough!

My Papa passed away 12 years ago next month. He was the rock of our family and left us suddenly. We weren't quite sure what we would do without him. At the family visitation time, literally hundreds filed in for hours as a testament to the kind of man he was and the many lives he touched. I knew my grandma was dependent on him. He had steadily led his family and home for all those years and then all of a sudden he was gone.

But my grandma survived. And I've seen in her a strength and resolve that I don't think I ever knew was there. There are times when I would take her home after she'd been out to eat with my family. I'd watch her walk into the trailer she now owns next to my uncle's house and just be in awe at her confidence and independence. My sweet, kind, tenderhearted grandmother - probably the most unlikely candidate - has become the rock.

No matter what I've faced in my life, my grandma has always been there. When I had gallbladder surgery two years ago, she stayed with me every day while I recovered. Took me to the doctor, fixed meals for me, brought me anything I needed. And she never expects anything in return.

I've lost three of my four grandparents - my paternal grandfather and grandmother passed away in 1989 and 2001, respectively - and grandma is the only one I have in this world. I once told her that she could never go anywhere. I meant that. But the realization that I might not always have her has become very real to me lately. And I don't like it one bit.

She was diagnosed with breast cancer two weeks ago and will have surgery on Thursday. The doctor expects that everything will be fine after the surgery and subsequent radiation therapy. And I have complete faith that it will be. The strength of my grandma and the healing power of my Father are going to shine through on this one. I just know it. Because my sweet, tenderhearted and kind grandmother is tough. And my God is even tougher.


Dear Lord, I place my grandmother in your hands, knowing that as much as I love her, You love her even more. Thank You for the godly example she has been to me, the rest of her family and so many others. I pray you will bless her with many more years of good health until You see fit to welcome her into Your loving arms. Amen.

Broken

I've been thinking lately about people that I know and have known who are broken. I guess in a sense, we've all been broken at some point or another if we've lived any amount of time.

I'm reminded of the verse in Psalm when David was lamenting his situation of being scorned and hated by his enemies. In Psalm 31:12, he says, "I am forgotten by them as though I were dead; I have become like broken pottery. "

Have you ever felt that way? When the world just seems so harsh and nobody seemed to care? When an enemy in your life treated you with such contempt that you just felt broken, shattered, unfixable?

But... Isn't it great when there's a "but?" David's came in verse 14 when he goes on to say, "But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, 'You are my God.'" David realized even at his lowest, he wasn't alone. And God wasn't finished with him yet!

Other examples in the Bible about pottery include Jeremiah's account of visiting a potter's house to receive a word from the Lord. One part of this account that I never took note of before is when he says in Jeremiah 18:4 "But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him." Even when the pot was marred, the potter didn't give up on it. He shaped it "as seemed best to him." Maybe it's not always the way we think it should be done, but He shapes us as it seems best to Him. And the results will be more amazing than we can fathom and so much better than we could have conjured up on our own.

Don't give up on yourself if life or even people leave you feeling broken or marred. Because God sure hasn't given up on you.

The Pottery Collection

By Edie Rowland

Some are ornate, others plain.
Some are rich and lavish, others quite ordinary.
Some are the picture of perfection,
While others have been cracked and mended, perhaps many times over.
Some are filled with dirt or cobwebs,
While others are sparkling clean.
There are some large, some small.
Some demand attention, while others fade into the background.
Some strong and unscathed, others frail and damaged.
But they share three things: They are all pots…
Made of the same clay…
Made by the same Potter.
And He loves each one as if it were His only masterpiece.

Life Changer

I know it's been way too long since I've blogged. The last week has been pretty crazy with a lot going on at work, home and church. The church stuff is what I really want to talk about.

Last night, our church finished its annual missions conference with missionaries from all around the world descending on Spartanburg to share with us their lives, ministries and vision. It's always a life-changing experience for me. Doesn't it seem funny to say that? That I have a life-changing experience once a year? Shouldn't life-changing experiences be permanent and on-going?

But I guess that's the problem that I have. Maybe you do, too. We go through something like a missions conference (or any conference), mission trip, retreat, revival, Bible Study, discipleship class, camp meeting, or anything of the sort, and suddenly, our lives are never going to be same. We've been changed forever.

I know there's such a thing as renewal and recharging, and there's nothing wrong with that. But why can't I stick with those promises of "things are going to be different," "I'm going to do more," "I'm really and truly surrendering all to God?" And it's not usually something really difficult to do, like quitting my job to go into full-time missions or writing a book or giving half my salary to the less fortunate. It's simple things like being a better witness at work or talking to somebody I know about Jesus or being more devoted to my quiet time.

Why do we make it more difficult than it really is? Why don't those amazing experiences really change our lives? Why do we have to do it all over again the next time that conference, class, meeting, revival, or retreat comes around? There's always room for growth, but there's a difference between continuing to grow and having to start from scratch again.

I made a few commitments this past weekend. I made a financial commitment (which I do every year). I made a commitment to go on a short-term trip (which I've done several times). I made a commitment to be a better missionary right where I am (which I fail at horribly). I made a commitment to spend more time with the Lord (which can always be better). When I feel like I want to back out of those commitments or be slack concerning them, I'll remember the couple with four children who have twins on the way in a high risk pregnancy. I'll remember the lady who has not one, but two brain tumors and continues to serve on the mission field in a foreign land. I'll remember the couple who have to leave their first grandchild behind to go back overseas. I'll remember the lady who spent months held captive by terrorists and ended up losing her husband on the mission field. I'll remember the man who said, "I'm not sure where God is going to take me this time, but I'm ready to go." I'll remember those who sacrifice everything - jobs, homes, relationships, comfort - to fulfill a commission that Jesus gave to all of us.

In comparison, a few more minutes in God's Word or a conversation with a co-worker pales. Maybe next year when the missions conference rolls around, I'll be able to look inside of myself and know that I did something in the last year. Maybe I can add growth instead of starting from the ground up. Maybe I can still be on fire instead of having to re-light. Maybe instead of having yet another life-changing experience, I will have helped somebody else have a life-changing experience of their own.

Stung!

As some of you may already know, I kind of had a rough Labor Day. (Mildly rough, of course. It could have been a lot worse.)

It all started when I wanted to clean up the brush in my back yard so I could mow the lawn, which, by the way, I've never done unsupervised before. I forgot that there was a hole near the back fence that housed a swarm of yellow jackets. (Swarm? Herd? Family? Pride? Gaggle? I don't know what a group of bees is collectively called.) I evidently stepped on said hole because as I was gathering brush and remarking to myself that I really needed to do something to get rid of them (you know, for the dog's protection), one decided to attach itself to my face.

There may have ended up being more of them to come after me, but, unbeknownst to me at the time, I probably protected myself by running across the yard screaming like a wild woman. (Yeah, that's why I did it.) I'm surprised the neighbors didn't come running out of their houses to see what was the matter. (In fact, it kind of bothers me that they didn't. I mean, what if I'd really been in trouble?)

About the time I hit the carport, the little striped sucker let go to live out his final seconds elsewhere. (Haha! Doesn't it almost make you feel better to know that after they sting you, they die? Die, bee, die!) I'm allergic to bee stings and the last time I was stung as a kid, I had a pretty bad reaction, which included major swelling. Considering this sting was on my face, you can imagine my dismay.

The first thing I did was call my boyfriend. Our conversation consisted of (paraphrased):

Me: Yi...bee...lergic...face...bee...hurts...sting...lergic...swell... (Those were the words in between the sobs.)
Him: I don't know what's wrong. I can't understand you.
Me: Bee...hurt...ow...yi...you...face...sting...
Him: I still can't understand you. What do I need to do?
Me: You...yi...bee...hurt...mom. (click)

So then I called my mom. I gave her pretty much the same explanation.

Me: Yi...bee...hurt...swell...yard...ow...
Her: You got stung by a bee?
Me: You...bee...sting...owie...yi...
Her: You need to go to urgent care and get a shot. I'll meet you there.

Seriously, my mom could be like a dog whisperer or something. How she translated that, I don't know. I guess that's one of those things that moms are good at. I know mine is pretty amazing.

After I'd started speaking plain English, I talked to my boyfriend again and he helped me calm down a bit. He told me he was going to kill those bees. (Because, you know, that's their instinct. You don't want to know what my dad did when I was attacked by a dog as a kid.) He came over and babied me a bit after I got home from the doctor until the Benedryl knocked me out. He's pretty amazing, too.

So I'm doing pretty well today after a gazillion hours of sleep, although I still have a welt on my face. I'm just thankful for the wonderful people God has put in my life to help me when those times come. In everything from bee stings to major life changes, I've got people to talk me through it, give me sage advice, encourage me, and just be there to listen or to hold me if that's all I need.

Thanks.

"I thank my God every time I remember you." - Phillippians 1:3

The Dog with a Psychological Disorder

Separation Anxiety. That was the diagnosis. After much reading and research, I have it on authority from several different expert resources that Smoltzie has separation anxiety.

Thankfully, all of the sources gave the same advice for dealing with this disorder. I found that I've been doing everything wrong.

I'm not supposed to tell him goodbye or pay any attention to him right before I leave or for about five minutes after I get home. FAILED

I'm not supposed to get upset or mad when I've been gone and he messes up because that increases his anxiety. FAILED

I'm not supposed to give in to his cries for attention. FAILED

I'm not supposed to point out the things I want him to leave alone (even while saying "no-no"). FAILED

It's been hard for me to not say goodbye when I leave or talk to him when I come home. Usually I fawn over him with hugs and love as I leave, telling him to be a good boy and I'll be home soon; then I wave at him as he peeks through the window watching me leave, tears in his eyes. When I come home and he runs to the window, I wave and smile and talk happily to him. I feel like I'm being mean when I ignore him, but that's what the experts say I should do.

Usually I have some sort of spiritual analogy with all the stories I post on my blog, but I don't think I do with this one. I just wanted to keep you all up to date with my adventures in dog ownership.

Okay, so maybe one spiritual analogy...

I think sometimes I suffer from separation anxiety and I can't wait for my Master to arrive.

That's it.

Always On Call

It's 4:45am and I am out of bed and on my computer. And just in case you didn't know, no, I am not a morning person. I've been sick for a couple of days and with all the lying around during the day and the fact that I can't seem to stop coughing and sneezing, I guess it's making it hard for me to stay asleep at night.

As I often do when I wake up at an hour that my body thinks only exists in the PM realm, I started thinking about all the usual things I worry about in the middle of the night. Usually there's a financial worry of some sort. I'm always thinking about the stuff I need to do to the house. I'm thinking about going to graduate school. Then there's the dog that I can't seem to get to be good while I'm gone. Will it be turkey or PB&J for lunch tomorrow? I'm a natural worrier, so it doesn't take much to get my wheels turning and anxiety churning.

I think I finally reached a breaking point because I found myself on my knees in the bathroom (because on my knees in the bedroom would have the dog crawling all over me). In a puddle of tears, I took every concern - large and small - to the Lord. It's sad that I have to reach that point to turn it all over to Him. But He sees my desperation and He gives me the comfort I need without questions or hesitation. You see, it's great to talk to other people about what I'm going through - my boyfriend, my mom, a trusted friend - and they always listen and often have helpful advice. But they can't really fix things. Why wouldn't I first go to the One Who can fix it? Why don't we all do that?

Have you ever felt so overwhelmed with the presence and love of God that you could almost literally feel His arms around you? I've been there. And usually it's in those desperate, middle of the night times when my tears flow uncontrollably as I finally, as if it were my last option, lay the worries, concerns and burdens at His feet. But it's not as if He's only there in the odd hours, at the end of the rope. He's been there 24/7/52. He's been there with every slip, slide and ropeburn along the way.

So why do we do it? Why do we wait until we are at our most desperate moment to turn to Him? It's almost human nature, it seems. Think about all the prayer and church-going that takes place when a tragedy occurs in this country. Think how much better it could and would be if we'd just stay close to Him all the time, trusting Him with our lives, our problems, our good and bad times, our whole selves.

Instead of making Him my last option, why don't I make Him the first? His arms are there even when I'm not desperate and sobbing. He stretched them out one day more than 2000 years ago to prove His love for me. They've been open for me ever since.

Best Friends Forever

I've been thinking about this day all month just like I do every year, and can't believe how fast the years have past. The sweet little blonde haired boy who was three then is now 10 and every time I see him, I cry because I wish his mommy could see what a fine, young handsome boy he's grown into.

We were cousins, best friends, the sisters that neither of us had. In a world of brothers and "boy stuff", we were each other's escape, playing house together, making big plans for the future. We were going to marry brothers and live next door to each other just like we did then. Our little girls would play together just like we did.

We were born six weeks apart - actually we were supposed to be closer than that, but she came early and I was late - so we were literally best friends from birth. Maybe longer, actually, because our mothers were so close. So we probably were friends even when we were in the womb.

In April, 2001, my paternal grandmother passed away on Easter Sunday, and the next day my divorce was finalized. It was a difficult week to say the least. I took a trip by myself to Charleston that weekend. I found out she was there, too, with her husband, son and parents (my aunt and uncle). We spent some time together. It's probably the most precious time I've ever spent with anyone. She had so many health problems, but she was more concerned about me. That's just the kind of person she was.

In July of that year, we were supposed to go to a Braves game together. She ended up getting sick and had to go to the hospital for a few days. I went to visit her and she apologized for not being able to go to the game. "It's okay," I told her. "We'll go later. The season is not over." I wish we'd have gotten that chance.

Seven years ago today, her pain and physical ailments ended. It wasn't the way we wanted it to happen, but she was healed and happy just the same.

I miss her on those days that I would have called her or gone to see her. When something exciting happens that I want to share. When I'm heartbroken and need her comfort. She was everything a best friend is supposed to be. Nobody will ever replace her.

One of the things I remember most about that trip to Charleston was when we were downtown at night and she was going to go with me back to where we parked the cars. It was a bit of a walk and she saw one of those three-wheeled carts that the guys drive people around in and thought it would be fun to take one back to the parking lot. "I'll pay!" she said.

We got in the back of that thing and he took off! We laughed so hard we could barely breathe. That's one of the sweetest memories I have of the two of us together. I can almost hear her laughing now.

I miss you, Stacy. I love you. I can't wait to see you again.

Argh!

Have you ever had one of those days where everything gets on your nerves? Everything that happens, every person you see just gets on your last ever-loving nerve. I'm having one of those days.

Why can't people just cooperate? Why can't they just read my mind and just know? "Hey, I think Edie is having a bad day. Let's leave her alone and not ask for anything today."

The things I want people to do, they don't do and the things I want them to not do, they do. Things aren't going exactly the way I want them to, so I feel justified in taking it out (in my mind, of course) on everybody I come across.

I wouldn't say what I'm thinking to their faces, but I feel guilty for just thinking it. I feel selfish, mean and ornery.

Then I read the news...

16-Year-Old Dies After School Shooting
5 Men Found Dead in Alabama Apartment
Woman Leaps from Ohio Hospital 5th-Floor Window
Man Charged with Murder in Teen's Beating, Burning
Mugger Beats Woman, 85, in Elevator for Purse, Cane

Kind of puts things in perspective, huh? On my WORST day, I don't deal with these kinds of things.

Caring about people, being kind and courteous, having respect for others. These are pretty basic things I should be able to do even when I don't feel like it. After all, mine may be the only smile, the only kind words someone gets today.

Have a great day! :)

Called Up

(I actually wrote this quite some time ago, but I read it today and it applied to something I'm dealing with now. I thought it might help someone else, too.)

He comes home from another out-of-town game, sore from the game itself and the 50-mile trip back home on the squeaky bus with uncomfortable seats that jolted him every time the driver hit a pothole. He looks through the refrigerator of his garage apartment for something to eat, spying a note stuck under a magnet. It’s the one that he wrote himself to remember to call the manager at the supermarket in town to see if he can give him a job again in the offseason to pay the bills. At age 28, he was really hoping the last offseason would be the final one he would have to work.

He finally finds some leftovers from the Chinese food he had delivered a couple of days ago. It’s either that or yet another peanut butter and jelly sandwich. So he pops it in the microwave, grabs an ice pack from the freezer for his aching knee and collapses in the old recliner his dad gave him to use until he’s able to buy furniture. He starts to turn on the television when he pauses to think about his situation in life. When will he finally make the leap? After 11 years in the minor leagues, will he ever get a shot? Should he just give up?

Just then, the phone rings. He figures it to be a buddy on the team wanting to go out and do something fun. He doesn’t feel like it. The game and life have him pretty beaten up and he just wants to sulk at home, feeling sorry for himself. But when he answers the phone, he hears his team manager’s voice on the other end. “What did I do this time?” he’s thinking skeptically.

But the manager announces that he has good news, simply saying, “Son, pack your bags and get to the airport. You’ve been called up!”

Can you imagine the excitement he must feel? The long-awaited dream he’s had since a five year old playing tee ball is a reality. Who knows how long it will last? But right now it doesn’t matter. He’s going to the “Big Show.”

Then just as he is about to call his parents to give them the news, an old enemy creeps in – an enemy called doubt. The voice tells him he isn’t ready. It tells him he can’t succeed at that level, that he’s washed up, that he’ll only make a fool of himself. “Can I do it?” he thinks. “Maybe I am washed up.”

How foolish would it be for him to give up his opportunity because of some doubts? It’s the biggest opportunity of his life – would he forfeit it because the enemy convinces him he can’t do it?

How many times are we called to do something by God, but we don’t even try because we think we can’t? Our enemy, Satan, has us convinced that we shouldn’t even bother because we’ll never be able to accomplish the task. What a shame if we pass up on our own chance to do something for Christ just because Satan plants seeds of doubt!

Moses thought he was incapable of doing what God asked him to do as well. The more times God told him to go to Egypt to confront Pharoah, the more excuses Moses gave as to why he couldn’t. “But, Lord, who am I to do that?” “But, Lord, they may not believe me!” “But, Lord, I’m not a very good speaker.”

God had an answer for every objection, but they all boiled down to this: if God asks us to do something, He’s going to give us all we need to do it! You see, when we are called to serve the Lord in any capacity, we aren’t expected to have the ability to do it. God’s not going to give us something to do that He thinks we can do on our own. That would defeat the purpose of our dependence on Him.

Moses was right. He was incapable on his own. He was deficient. But he was able to tap into the greatest source of power, strength, and ability there is or ever will be. He could tap into the power of an Almighty God!

There are other examples from Scripture as well. Think about Paul for a minute. He had been a persecutor of Christians from the time he was a young man. Oh, he was very religious, well-educated, intelligent, well-spoken. He had all the ability to do what God called him to do when he turned to Christ on the road to Damascus. But what about his past?

Surely his Christian brothers would never believe anything he said. They might think it was a trick, or that he was simply making fun of them. They wouldn’t put much stock into anything he had to say after what he had done to them for so many years…would they?

And what about his peers, the people he served alongside all that time? They would surely think he’d gone mad! What influence could he have on them with his newfound Christianity? If he tried to witness to any of the people who knew him before, they wouldn’t believe him…would they?

But look at what Paul did with his life. He became one of the greatest Christian influences the world has ever known. And all because he did what God told him to do instead of questioning the past. Just as we can’t let our perceived inability to serve stop us from obeying, we also can’t let a broken past keep us from the task either.

I remember playing softball as a kid in the fifth grade. I had always wanted to play catcher. So one day we were practicing and the coach let me try my hand at catching. It was pretty disastrous. But one thing that saved me was that one of the guys from the high school who was helping us out stood behind me catching everything I missed, picking up the ball and throwing it back to the pitcher for me, and generally helping me to not look completely inept.

God does that for us. Sometimes our abilities aren’t what we think they should be to complete the task that lay before us. But God has our back. He catches what we miss. He makes the throws we are too weak to make. He keeps us from failing. He’s not going to ask us to do something and then let us fail at it. We just have to trust Him and depend on His strength and not our own.

So don’t feel inadequate or unequipped when God calls you to do some type of service for Him. This is what you’ve waited your whole Christian life to do. Your Lord is calling you to something greater, to a higher place of service, to the “Big Show.” Have confidence in His power and faith to know that He will see you through to its finish.

Ephesians 2:10 – “For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

The Brat...I Mean, Cat

I guess since I've given you endless information about my character of a dog, I should probably tell you about my cat. It's only fair since I've had her longer, right?

I got Macy from a student at Limestone College when I was working there as an Admissions Counselor in 2001. I was getting ready to move into an apartment in Gaffney and got the urge to have a pet. I didn't think I'd have the time to spend with a dog - they require a lot more attention - but I said if I could find a gray cat like the one I had in high school, I would get one. The aforementioned student told me that she had a gray female she needed to give away, so she was mine. I came up with her name kind of weirdly because I was sitting there trying to come up with a good name for a gray cat and "Macy" kept creeping into my brain, because of the name Macy Gray (the sort of singer). So that ended up being her name.

She was only a teeny, tiny five weeks old when I brought her home. She cried all the way and wouldn't eat for about three days. We tried every kind of cat food imaginable and tried feeding her milk through a syringe. I was so afraid she was going to starve. Then one day, I had picked up some McDonald's and was sitting eating fries. She came up and started sniffing at the hand containing the fry and when I reached out to see if she would taste it, she nearly took my finger off. She was lovin' it. I've always wanted to write the big wigs at McDonald's and tell them about how their french fries saved my cat's life.

Eating is no longer a problem for her. She's pretty fat and likes to sit upright like a Buddha statue sometimes. It's pretty funny. She thinks she always has to have food in her bowl, whether she wants to eat it right now or not. It's all part of her Queen of the World mentality.

Macy is a little different than most cats. She only answers to her name. Don't try any of that "Here kitty, kitty" business with her. She'll just look at you like you've lost your mind. She's not much of a cuddler (of course, you could say that about a lot of cats, probably). But when she gets ready to cuddle, by golly, you'd better be ready for it. She likes to bite toes. And she likes to pitch fits and talk back. She really does! If I tell her to leave a certain room or to come to me, she'll usually do it, but she's talking back to me the whole time. "Reow!" She does not like to be told what to do.

She thinks she's running the household. She has no idea how not in control she really is. Don't tell her this, but it's not really all about her. Aren't we like that sometimes? Getting so wrapped up in our own little world that we forget that there are other people out there. We think we are so in control. But, truth be known, we're never in control. I'm sure if I forgot to feed Macy for a while, she'd realize how out of her control her life really is. And sometimes in our lives, we get to a desperate point that we realize how out of our control our life is, too.

But thankfully, I know the One Who is in control. He provides all the things I need - shelter, food. All the things that I forget about when I think that I have it all together. Our pastor yesterday talked about how God is the one who holds it all together. I hope I won't let myself be like a self-centered little cat and realize how much I depend on my Master to keep my life in order.

If the dog has eaten her food already this morning, Macy's probably realizing how much of her life I control right about now...

The Joys of Homeownership

When I decided last fall that I would buy a house, who knew what a challenge it would be? (Besides other people who have bought a 60-year-old house, of course.) I still like my house, the location, and what not. But it seems as if I take one step forward and two steps back these days.

Starting out, I knew I need to do some slight fixing up in the house - some paint, a few window treatments, shelf liner in the kitchen cabinets, and a major cleaning job. I thought, well, I'll just take it one room at a time and pretty soon I'll be done!

Wrong!

So far I've managed to repaint two out of six rooms (and one of those is a bathroom so it barely even counts). Along the way I've inherited some new jobs, such as the malfunctioning toilet in one of the bathrooms and having to put an electric wire on the fence to keep the dog from getting out (which I still haven't finished). Speaking of the dog, he completely finished off the couch today, so I need another one of those, too. I also decided, with the generous help of my patient boyfriend, to take down the front yard fence and pull up a lot of dead bushes (which, truth be known, he's done most of that work himself).

Anyway, today I decided to sit down and make a list of all the things that I need to do to at least get the house up to where I'd want to have a party or something. The list was much more comprehensive than I had anticipated. I mean, it covered a whole sheet of legal pad paper!

When I decided on this sweet, little house, it reminded me of my paternal grandparents' house in Ohio that I visited a couple of times a year when I was growing up. I miss that house now that they are gone. Plus, it also kind of made me think of Charlie Brown's Christmas tree - it just needed a little love. It's a great house with a big kitchen and master bedroom and a large, pretty backyard. But I never realized that lack of time and a 65-pound boxer would make it more of a fixer-upper than I had anticipated. It's overwhelming sometimes.

There are times with life itself overwhelms us, when it seems as if everything is happening at once and we are not quite sure how to deal with it. But in the noise of all the chaos surrounding us, God asks us to do one thing: Be still. There are a couple of times in the Psalms (46:10, 37:7) when we are reminded to do this. Sometimes it's necessary to take action, to go and do. But there comes a time when all we need to do is be still and let God be God. Let Him do His thing! He will come through every time.

One of these days, hopefully sooner rather than later, I'm going to be able to blog to you about all the work I've done on my cute little bungalow and how it looks just like I envisioned it would. That is, if I'm not too old to see the computer screen by then.

Have a great weekend!

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Sometimes I ask myself what love really is.

Is it like on the cartoons when people have hearts in their eyes?
Is it like the movies where, after a couple of hours of angst, the boy and girl always end up together?
Is it like television where people seem to fall in and out of love as often as they shower?

When I was on my way to work this morning, I saw an older couple walking down the street holding hands. I think that's what love is. When maybe our bodies aren't in as good of shape as they once were, our hair has turned gray (or maybe loose), parts that used to be perky now sag, and we can't get around as well as we used to - but there's still that commitment and respect for each other.

Love isn't about the physical or even the emotional. And love isn't necessarily voluntary. But, you know, sometimes it is. Because love is an action. And sometimes we have to make ourselves love people who are hard to love. I know sometimes I'm hard to love, but God does it anyway.

We have the best description we can ever find for love right there in I Corinthians 13:
Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.

What a wonderful picture God painted for us through Paul of what love really is. I know that there are people in my own life who are hard to love and others who are easy to love. But I'm supposed to love them all just the same. Jesus loved people like Hitler, Hussein and Bin Laden just as much as He did you and me when he died on the cross for us. For all of us.

Lord, help me to love those who may seem to be unloveable. And help me to prove myself worthy of the love of others.

Blogger's Block

I know since I haven't blogged since Thursday I need to have something to say today. I'm suffering from blogger's block (if that is such a thing), so I decided to be a little more random and do this: make a list of the things I want to ask God when I get to Heaven.


- What's the purpose of mosquitos?


- Why was marijuana made? Was it for medicinal purposes all along?


- Was it Adam's fault or Eve's? If Adam had said no, would there still be a curse?

- Why do some people have higher metabolisms than others? (Just doesn't seem fair that it's easy for some people to stay thin and hard for others.)

- About men... (Enough said.)

(Note: You guys can't get mad, because I'm sure you're thinking the same thing about women. That's what I thought.)

I'd also love to talk to Isaac because one of the more thought-provoking stories in the Bible to me is when Abraham was asked to sacrifice Isaac. I'd love to get his perspective and find out what he was thinking when all that was going on.

What about you? What questions do you want to ask in Heaven? (I realize that once we get there it just won't matter anymore, but it's kind of fun to speculate.)

My Dog

(I laughed to myself because the title sounds like a 2nd grader's first story.)

I have to tell you about my dog, Smoltzie. (Yes, he is named after John Smoltz, pitcher for the Braves, which must have put a jinx on him because he's out for the season.)

I got Smoltzie through sheer happenstance when my station manager's wife heard about him through their dogs' vet. Smoltzie (nee Boyz) lived with a man in Woodruff with his brother, and since they didn't get along really well, his owner was going to get rid of him. I found out on Thursday, October 11, and only had until Friday to claim him because the man was going to take him to the animal shelter. Well, I just couldn't let that happen. I had planned on getting a dog later, once I got settled into the house with the fenced yard that I was closing on the following week. It was a pretty inconvenient time to get a dog, but once I met him, that was that. (Since I had planned on getting a shelter dog anyway, I figured I'd cut him off at the pass and not have to go and look at all those poor dogs and end up wanting to bring them all home.)

Smoltzie is such a good, sweet, obedient dog, but like most canines, he can get into a little trouble when not supervised. Such as when:
- The wind blew the crawl space door open and he drug various objects that were stored there around the yard.

- He got into the big trash can on the carport and drug the trash all over the yard (multiple times).

- He escaped from the fence twice, one time forcing me to look for him through tears for more than an hour, and the other ending with him running down the middle of the road to meet me as I approached the house.

- After the above-mentioned incidents forced me to keep him in the house while I was gone, he got into the kitchen trash can and spread trash all over my living room - okay, he's done this a few times.

- Over time, he's destroyed at least five or six picture frames.

- He used my digital camera as a chew toy and ruined the preview screen.

- He tore up the cat's scratch box and left cardboard and catnip around the house (at least it wasn't the cat).

- He's destroyed two cookbooks, the cover to my church directory and my Sunday School teaching book (ironically the pages he tore up were weeks I wasn't teaching).

- He tore holes in both sides of the couch cushions and made my house look like Christmas with all the white stuffing spread out everywhere. (The couch was already in rough shape, so this one isn't as terrible as it might seem.)

That's all I can remember at this point. I know it seems like a lot. (I really didn't think it was until I started typing it.) He really is sweet, regardless of how it seems. And most days, he's very good - it's just when he gets attention-starved or restless or, quite frankly, is trying to "hold it" until he gets outside that he starts his disruptions.

I try so hard to be mad at him and sometimes I do a good job for a while, but then he looks at me with those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes, and I just melt. He feels guilty. He really does. And I always give him another chance.

Isn't that the way God is with us? We mess up so many times, sometimes destroying the plans He had for us and driving that wedge between Him and us. Yet, we say we're sorry and ask for forgiveness and He always gives it. There's another chance waiting for us in His loving arms.

I'm in the process of fixing the fence to be able to keep Smoltzie outside again, which I hope will alleviate some of his mischief. I don't want God to have to keep reining me in to keep me from doing what I shouldn't and not doing what I should. I don't want to have to come to Him with sad, puppy-dog eyes and ask for chance after chance. I want it to be my looks of love and adoration, not guilt and shame, that make Him melt.

As Sands Through the Hourglass...

I've been thinking a lot lately about when I first came to my church and the people that I met and became friends with at the beginning. There are only a few of us left in the singles group. Some are already married, others have moved on to other churches. Four of my closest friends from that group have all had life-changing events lately. One (who was married in Jan. 07) just had a baby yesterday, one is getting married in 10 days, one (who was married in Feb. 07) found out he's going to be a dad, and one was married in June. It kind of makes me sad to think that everyone is going their separate ways.

But that's the way the seasons of life go, you know? It reminds me of Ecclesiastes 3:1, "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven." So I have to let the past go and just remember the great times, while being happy for the blessings of marriage and children that God has brought into my friends' lives, knowing that true friendship doesn't end even when it changes a bit.

And then there are all the wonderful changes that have taken place in those same last six years. God has brought new friends into our circle who have become priceless treasures in my life. There's my wonderful boyfriend and the amazing ride that the two of us have been on together. Would I trade that for anything? Absolutely not.

So with the changes that sort of make me sad, there have been incredibly good changes that are all a part of God's plan to lead me to where He wants me. There is a "time to every purpose," and my responsibility is to cherish the past, live in the present, and trust my future to the One Who holds tomorrow.

"Chopper to Chipper" No More

Well, as an avid Braves fan, I couldn't let the moment pass without making mention of the passing of Skip Caray, longtime Braves announcer and icon. I didn't have cable growing up, so I don't have the close ties to Skip that many other Braves fans do, but I have listened to him on the radio and seen him on TBS and the former Turner South for about the last 11 years.

Skip had one of those unforgettable voices and an even more unforgettable schtick when he provided play-by-play and color commentary on radio and TV. Some of his quotes are legendary (although he lost some of his material when the Expos moved to D.C. and changed their name to the Nationals).

Some of my favorite Skip quotes:

- "Like lambs to the slaughter, the Braves take the field." (During the lean years)

- "The bases are loaded and Dusty Baker wishes he was." (Referring to the Reds manager during a game against Cincinnati)

- "Another hit off Bong." (Referring to Braves pitcher Jung Bong)

- (On the fourth ball of an intentional walk) "As day follows night..."

- "Cue the duck" (Introducing the AFLAC Trivia Question)

There are many more - too many to remember all at once, but the best ones are these...

"A lotta room in right-center, if he hits one there we can dance in the streets. The 2-1. Swung, line drive left field! One run is in! Here comes Bream! Here's the throw to the plate! He is...safe! Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! Braves win!...Braves win! They may have to hospitalize Sid Bream; he's down at the bottom of a huge pile at the plate. They help him to his feet. Frank Cabrera got the game winner! The Atlanta Braves are National League champions again! This crowd is going berserk, listen!" (Atlanta Braves comeback win to capture the 1992 NLCS against Pittsburgh)

"Mark gets the sign, the wind and the pitch here it is... swung, fly ball deep left center, Grissom on the run... Yes! Yes! Yes! The Atlanta Braves have given you a championship! Listen to this crowd! A mob scene on the field. Wohlers gets 'em one, two, three. A couple of fans rushing on the field. The Atlanta Braves have brought the first championship to Atlanta!" (1995 World Series Championship against Cleveland)

Skip battled with alcohol problems for much of his life, but even after he gave it up, the damage to his body had been done. My greatest hope is that, at some point, he made peace with God and had a relationship with Him. After all, when our life here is over, that's all that will matter.

Goodbye, Skip! With every "chopper to Chipper" from now on, I'll think of you.

Who is God?

The same God that carves out the oceans and formed the mountains is the God that holds us when we are hurting. The same God that is big enough to create and control everything in the universe and span all of space and time is small enough to live within us and walk beside us. The same God Who is King of kings, Lord of lords, the Alpha and Omega, Almighty God is the One Who humbled Himself to become one of us and walk among us. The same God Who sits on a throne in Heaven as Ruler over everything is the One Who hung on a cross in humility and shame all because He loved us so much. He gave all He had, his very life, in the cruelest and most torturous death ever known just because He wants to know me, to know you, to know us. He loves us that much.

Who is God to you? Do you know Him personally? Is He a far-off being Who awes you, yet doesn't feel close enough to hold you? Are you intimidated by Him or intimate with Him? Is He one who feels close only on Sundays and the occasional Wednesday, or do you feel His presence throughout the week no matter where you go? Do you know Him personally and have a close past with Him, but now you've distanced yourself from Him and don't involve Him in the details of your life? Is He your King and your Father? Your Master and your Shepherd? Your Lord and your Friend? He can be and longs to be all those things and more to you. The God of Heaven Himself wants to be close to you. Will you let Him?

35 in a 55...

Ever had one of those weeks? I was on vacation last week, and it's always hard going back to work after that. Honestly, though, it hasn't been work that has made it "one of those weeks." I'm teaching my Bible Fellowship class on Sunday, and it seems every time I do that, the enemy fights me all week, telling me lies and trying to discourage me. It all sort of culiminated yesterday when the dog decided to knock over the kitchen trash can and spread a full bag of trash all over my living room floor. Good times.

Anyway, I've had a hard time going to sleep this week, which has made it hard to wake up, which has made it hard to get to work on time. And malfunctioning alarm clocks and puking dogs don't help. Then yesterday, I was taking 292 to I-26 (because it's quicker than going through the town of Inman and its 25 m.p.h. speed limit). I got behind a lady who was going 35 m.p.h. on the 55 m.p.h. stretch of 292. I guess I would have to say that most of my pet peeves have to do with other drivers anyway, and this just made me have the kind of attitude I'd prefer not to have to start the day, and the word "moron" was used more than once in a not-so-affectionate way. I hate it when that happens and I always feel so guilty. I finally got to that precious dotted yellow line so that I could pass her, and I'm pretty sure she could see the steam coming from my ears as I did. Then I thought about that silver fish sticking on the back of my car and really hoped that my look of disgust wasn't too obvious as I passed.

As I've thought about that lady and her snail-like pace, it made me think about life in general and how often we get so caught up in the day-to-day busy-ness of life, trying to keep up with the standard pace that the world has set for us. I'm sure that lady was in no hurry to get anywhere. She had a friend in the car with her and they were probably having a nice conversation as they drove along slowly but steadily, just enjoying each other's company and the nice day God had given us.

Sometimes we need to do that, too. In the clutter and chaos of 8:00 sales meetings, loads of laundry, attention-hungry pets, choir rehearsals, and (for some of you) cooking dinners and shuttling kids here and there, it's okay to say, "STOP! I don't care what the speed limit is. I want to slow down and enjoy the ride." Sometimes life has to set our pace for us. But at times, it's okay to be our own pacemaker, spend some time with the Lord, and enjoy the world He's given us to live in. Stop housecleaning to watch the kids play for a while. Take the dog for a walk. Read a book on the porch swing for a few minutes. Have a picnic with the family. Spend some time in prayer for someone you care about.

Maybe even drive 35 in a 55 once in a while...

To Boldly Go...

So here it is...finally. I've had these grandiose dreams of having a fancy, revenue-generating website someday that is so successful that I have to quit my job to stay at home and maintain it. And, you know, of course, it will eventually buy me a condo on the beach, a cabin in the mountains, and frequent vacations to places like Disney World, the Carribbean, the Poconos and Europe.

As with most of my big dreams, I often build them up so fabulously in my mind that by the time I'm finished mentally shopping for the yacht, I'm too exhausted to even get started. So at this point, I'm employing the KISS theory. (In case you've been holed up in a basement for years on end, a la Brendan Fraser in "Blast from the Past," that means "Keep It Simple Stupid.") I'm going to start with this blog, which may or may not be read by all my friends on Facebook and the other people I spam with the link. (If you are one of them, may God bless you and your household for reading this.)

One reason is I love to write. And part of the inspiration came from the fact that I found my writing portfolio after months of it being MIA. It has all the newspaper, magazine and web articles I've written, along with stories from my journalism classes and college newspaper. I was reading through some of them and remembering that I was a decent writer at some point (I think), and all I wanted to do with my life was write. I'm familiar with blogging now, too, because I've done a blog for about a year and a half for the website of the TV station where I'm employed. I've found in doing so that I'm wittier than I perhaps thought. (Don't you think so, too?)

I chose the name Scattered, Smothered and Covered, because my interests (and usually my mind) are scattered, I'll be covering a lot of issues and topics, and well...smothered just went along with it. Plus, I love Waffle House hashbrowns - a Southern staple, really - and well, quite honestly, Scattered, Smothered, Covered, Chunked, Topped, and Diced was just too long of a name.

So it all boils down to doing something I'm passionate about, doing what I love, and letting God take it from there and turn it into whatever He wants it to be. And who knows? Mickey Mouse and I may become buddies someday before it's all said and done.

Thanks for reading!
Edie